HOLLISTER
“I can’t believe you guys talked me into this,” I said.
Ben and Aaron flanked me on either side, which decreased my chances of a subtle escape. We were on the edge of the field at The Mud Chase, the event in mid-April where Connor’s group of Mud Warriors and other participants he hadn’t coached raced through an obstacle course that was inspired by the type done by Marines. As a forty-four-year-old lover of processed foods and Netflix, I was not Marine material. Fortunately for me, the course had been simplified for civilians.
“What are you talking about?” Ben said. “You got both of us into this.”
“You’ve been preparing for months.” Aaron patted my back reassuringly. “You’ve got this.”
“You always say your goal is just to finish the race,” Ben said. “Don’t go out there trying to win.”
He had his eyes trained on the participants in the twenty to twenty-nine age group who were already on the course. I knew he was watching to see which techniques worked well on the equipment because of course he wanted to win for his age group. I did too, but I was starting to freak out about what I’d gotten myself into. Crawling through metal tunnels, scaling wooden walls, swinging on ropes—this course would tire out Tarzan. Yes, Ben and I had been doing boot camp classes on the weekend for months, but it wasn’t as intense as this course.
I huffed with indignation. “Don’t try to win? Why not? You don’t think I can place for the women in my age group?”
Finishing this course was on our YOLO lists. Just finishing. But now that Ben doubted my ability to place, I was fired up to try and do it.
Ben’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I knew I could motivate you by appealing to your competitive nature.”
I punched his arm, which was impressively solid. Ben was still a lean guy, but both he and Aaron, who’d been coming to boot camp with us, had achieved some excellent muscle definition. If Ben’s guns were impressive, mine weren’t bad either, and even more importantly, I could walk up the flight of stairs to the Gambit office without getting winded. That helped me feel less geriatric around my youthful coworkers.
“I have to line up for my race. Catch you on the other side.” Aaron gave me a fist bump. He was in the thirty to thirty-nine-year-old group which meant we could watch and cheer him on before our race began.
“Have fun,” I said.
“Yeah, you too,” he said. “You’ve got this, Hols.”
Ben gave him one last quick tip on how to get over the wall before Aaron left us. I loved that the two of them had become friends, and it was no surprise really. They shared a nerdy passion for trivia games, technology, and history documentaries. I’d made it my goal to find a nice girlfriend for Aaron so I’d have someone to talk to when the guys started geeking out about something like advances in solar geoengineering.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and thought Aaron was back. My face lit up when I saw it was Bridget and Jenna standing behind me.
“You came!” I threw a hug around both of them at the same time. “You guys are the best.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Jenna said. “It’s not every day your friend goes American Ninja Warrior Woman.”
“Different event,” I said, “but I appreciate the sentiment.”
Bridget lifted up a cloth bag. “Electrolyte drinks and protein gels for when you finish.”
“Aw, thank you.”
“Hello, ladies,” Ben said.
“Hi, Ben,” they chorused.
“There are some good-looking men around here,” Jenna said appreciatively. “Maybe I should come to boot camp.” She laughed at herself. “Kidding, obviously. You know how I feel about exercise.”
“Aaron is at the starting line.” I pointed the way and watched for her reaction.
Bridget was the one to comment first. “Wow, I didn’t even recognize him.”
“I know, right?” I said. “The boy got buff.”
Jenna didn’t say a word, which was odd, so I elbowed her.
“He looks good, right?”
“Eh,” she said. “I guess so. If you’re into fitness freaks.”
And yet I caught her checking him out a few more times before the cowbell rang, signaling the start of the race.
We cheered and yelled, “Go, Goodwin!” when he ran by us on the way to the mud pit. We couldn’t see all the way to the finish line, but from what I could tell, he did great. But before he came back to see us, Ben and I needed to line up for our turn. My legs were quaking by the time we got to the starting line.
“God, I need to pee again,” I whined.
“No time for that.” Ben put an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “You’ll be fine. It’s just nerves.”
I stretched my quads and then my calves, hoping that would make the shaking stop. “I’ll see you at the finish line, I guess.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “What are you talking about, we’re sticking together.”
“No way. I don’t want to feel like I’m slowing you down. You go ahead of me.”
Before he could agree or argue, the cowbell rang and we were off. The first couple of obstacles, running through old tires and swinging over a water trap on a rope, weren’t too difficult. I’d practiced both so many times that the only thing slowing my roll was the line of people ahead of me. Ben let me go first so we were still together when we got to the dreaded wall. I ran at it with everything I had and grabbed the rope. My feet landed in the perfect position. Months of strength training helped me pull and climb my body up to the top, but that’s where I got stuck.
Ben had already disappeared ahead of me, so I was shocked when I heard him calling my name from the other side.
“Hollister! Push off with your legs and grab the top of the wall.”
“I can’t do it!” I called back, letting myself slide down the rope to the bottom. Frustration pooled in my gut.
He came around the wall and led me to the side. “Try again. Grab the rope high. At the top, take two big pulls, then lean back, as far as you can, and push off. That will help you grab the top and swing that leg over.”
He was reminding me of everything our coach said in training. I had to get on the back of the line and wait for another turn, but he stayed there watching me. This time I ran at the wall with purpose and did everything he told me. The rope burned my hands, but I walked up that wall like it was my job, then pushed off and grabbed the top edge. I heard Ben cheering me on the whole way.
“Yes, you’ve got it! Go, baby, go!”
Once I’d thrown my leg over the top of the wall, I pumped my fist and yelled, “Wolverines!”
“What?” Ben called up at me.
“Did you not see Red Dawn? Classic eighties film!”
He shook his head, motioning to me with his hands. “Just get down here.”
The way down the ladder was easy, and in seconds my feet were back on solid ground.
I threw my arms around Ben and we shared the sweatiest, stinkiest hug I’d ever experienced.
“C’mon,” he said, leading the way to the tunnels. “We’re not even halfway there.”
We shimmied like snakes on our stomachs through the ridged metal tunnels, the low ceiling making it impossible to rise up on our knees and crawl. The worst part wasn’t the metal against our skin, but the claustrophobia. I tried not to think of how many people were in front of and behind me. It was so hot in there, I started to feel like I couldn’t get enough air.
“Nowhere to go but forward,” I muttered to myself.
When I finally saw sunlight at the other end, relief coursed through me. There was a long run down a muddy trail in the woods followed by a precarious walk across logs set over a water pit. Then there were the monkey bars. My arm muscles were already quivering from fatigue, and I fell from the bars three times before I made it across, only by sheer willpower. Ben was waiting for me, but he wasn’t standing. He was on the ground holding his leg.
I squatted next to him, my breath coming in fast bursts. “You okay?”
“No, I twisted my ankle when I jumped down from the bars.”
“Should I call a medic?”
He gave me a look of disdain. “I’m an orthopedic surgeon.”
“Who is currently on the ground and in pain,” I reminded him. “Seriously, do we need help here?”
He stood up, using only his left foot, then gingerly set his right foot on the ground. With a wince, he said, “No, I can make it to the finish line. You go ahead.”
“Yeah, right.” I wound my arm around his back, under his armpits. “C’mon, you know our motto. No Man or Woman Left Behind.”
“Last week our motto was Ironing is for Chumps.” He cringed again as we took a step. “Ow.”
“Mottos change weekly,” I explained. “You have to keep up.”
And so we completed the race looking like a team in a three-legged race, crossing the finish line at exactly the same time. Indeed, we’d tied again, but this time for last place in our age group.
Ben got some material at the medical station to wrap his ankle, and I insisted that we ice it for twenty minutes. I’d learned from the best how to take care of these types of injuries. Then we found Zoe, Margo, and Elise who had watched the race together from a safe distance.
Margo wrapped both of us in hugs, not complaining about our filthiness, and Zoe gave us high fives.
“I might want to do this with you next year,” Zoe said. “What do you think, Margo?”
Margo jumped up and down. “Yeah, I’ll help you train! I set up obstacle courses in our backyard all the time.”
Even Elise congratulated us and took our photos to commemorate the race day. She’d taken her time in warming up to me, but my closet full of unique clothing was what won her over eventually. That girl loved fashion, and not the preppy, conservative kind either. Turns out Ben’s older daughter was headed in a funkier sartorial direction than any of us would have guessed. She’d even gotten herself a pair of Doc Marten boots.
We took the girls over to a local brewery where we met up with Aaron, Bridget, and Jenna. The place was filled with Mud Chase participants in all their dirty glory. Ben and I had been hosed off after the race and changed into clean clothing, but we still had mud in places it did not belong.
“We’re going back again next year,” Ben said after we’d ordered our food. “We need a do-over.”
“Do we though?” I asked, my mouth watering from the scent of cooking burgers and fries. “I’m not so sure.”
“C’mon, Mom,” Zoe said. “When I get back from Germany, I’ll join you. We can all train together.”
Zoe was due to leave on her summer internship in six weeks, and I loved the idea of having something to look forward to when she returned.
“If you’re going to do it, then I will definitely continue,” I said.
Aaron tipped his beer toward Ben. “I’ll do it again. I loved it.”
As he lifted his arm to take a sip from his drink, I saw Jenna’s eyes studying his bicep. Interesting.
“I’ll come back to cheer you on,” Bridget said, “but I’m sticking with yoga.”
“You know what’s going on my YOLO list this year?” I said. “A headstand. Maybe I should come to yoga with you.”
“I can do a headstand!” Margo said. “I’ll teach you how.”
I blew her a kiss. “Thank you, Gogo. I’d love that.”
Bridget clapped her hands together. “You should both come to yoga! It’s great for your mind as well as for your body.” Her smile fell as she looked up at someone behind me.
Coach Connor stepped in between my chair and Ben’s and put a hand on our shoulders. “Well done, you two,” he said in his gruff Scottish accent. “That was quite a dramatic finish. Ben, how’s the ankle?”
As I’d expected, Ben was stoic in front of our coach. “It’s fine, no worries.”
“Good, good,” Connor said. Bridget continued staring at him, and I was surprised at the scowl on her face. “Enjoy your meal, and I’ll see you on the weekend.”
We raised our drinks to him, and Connor strode off to talk with another race participant.
“Do you know who that is?” Bridget hissed.
“Coach Connor?” I said. “He played soccer in the English Premiere League years ago and now he’s our coach. You know him?”
“He’s my neighbor!” She lowered her voice when a few heads turned in our direction. “The guy with the McMansion on my court. And the enormous Range Rover that he drives too fast. And the loud friends at his backyard parties. That was him.”
“That’s the guy you’re always complaining about?” Jenna asked. “You didn’t mention that he looks like an older version of Tom Hardy.”
“Coach is great,” Aaron said. “Are you sure that’s your neighbor?”
“Absolutely.” Bridget took a swig of her root beer. “I’d recognize that asshole anywhere.” Remembering that kids were present, she turned beet red and cringed. “Sorry. I meant to say jerk.”
The rest of us exchanged wide-eyed looks. Where did Bridget’s Zen go?
Jenna patted her hand. “Okay, settle down there, feisty.” Jenna patted her hand.
I decided it was a good time for a subject change. “Aaron is too shy to tell you himself, so let me be the first to announce that he has been named to the list of thirty under forty by Code magazine. He’ll do a photo shoot with them and then there’s a gala when the issue comes out. Pretty exciting stuff.”
Aaron blushed and reached for a nacho. “Let’s not make a huge deal out of it.”
“It’s exciting though,” I said. “This is your year, Aaron. New game being released, maybe a new apartment.” Aaron was looking into buying a place in Ben’s building. Those two really were turning into besties these days. “And guess what? If you do move into the building, we’ll be neighbors. I’m moving in with Ben next month.”
There were cries of congratulations from our friends because this was the first they were hearing about my big move. It was in the works for months, but we hadn’t been ready to tell them yet. Not before I told Zoe and Ben told his girls. Those were hard conversations. Margo took it well, but Zoe and Elise both needed a little time to adjust to the idea. Elise started to thaw out when she heard that I was redecorating the apartment and she could pick out new paint and bedding for her room. Zoe insisted she was only worried about me taking such a big step with Ben when we hadn’t even been together a year, but I knew she had other reasons to fear this big change. Once I moved in with him, it would really no longer be Zoe and me against the world. When she left for college, I’d had to face the same realization, and she would come to accept it just like I had. She promised she’d bring her laundry to our fancy apartment building at least once a month. I promised to sell his awful leather couch and buy us something more comfortable for movie watching. It would be a pullout, in case she ever wanted to crash with us.
“My biggest concern is closet space,” I told our friends. “But Ben got me a huge wardrobe for all my ‘rarely used’ items.”
“The boas, the berets, the bedazzled denim jumpsuit.” Ben massaged the back of my neck. “You never know what’s coming out of there.”
“That’s the spice of living with me.” I leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “Right, honey?”
He gazed at me, and in his eyes I saw it all. The trips we’d take, the arguments we’d weather, the mind-blowing sex we’d have, and the family we’d create by bringing our two lives together. And it made me deeply happy.
“Absolutely,” he said. “I’d never want you to get rid of the magic closet. It’s all part of the adventure.”